


The Art of Seduction

by tristesses



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn - Timothy Zahn
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Blowjobs, First Time, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sexy Mythology, They are so in love, Unexpected Proposals, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 16:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tristesses/pseuds/tristesses
Summary: If you want to seduce the Chiss of your heart, you'd better be prepared for a nice, long courtship.Unless, of course, that Chiss decides to seduce you.- Frevik Fah, Alien Romance for Fun and Profit,52 ABY





	The Art of Seduction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Thymesis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thymesis/gifts).



> Thank you to F. for the beta!

_The Chiss reproductive strategy, much like that of humans, focuses on fewer offspring with stronger parental investment, in sharp contrast to the Skaara mentioned previously. Also like humans, their culture promotes pair-bonding in stable relationships, both for the purpose of raising children and for companionship. Unlike humans, however, Chiss have an interesting biological quirk: the hormones that trigger sexual desire in their species lie dormant until certain neurochemical reactions take place. These reactions—which have been exhaustively researched by Chiss scientists, and have finally been pinpointed as relating to the neurotransmitters decazyron and chirikoate—are called, in human terms, falling in love. It's a very intense experience for a Chiss, and once a Chiss has made up their mind about a person, they will not be swayed._

_So if you want to seduce the Chiss of your heart, you'd better be prepared for a nice, long courtship._

_Unless, of course, that Chiss decides to seduce you._

_\- Frevik Fah, Alien Romance for Fun and Profit, 52 ABY_

* * *

Thrawn laid in bed in his quarters aboard the _Chimaera_ , hands folded meditatively across his stomach, and thought about sex.

It was not something that preoccupied him, usually—certainly not as much as it preoccupied humans. After all, Chiss were physiologically disinclined to the sort of panting, casual lust humans had to deal with on a daily basis. It was such a foreign concept to him that it had taken Thrawn many months, if not years, to learn how to fully account for sex as a factor in predicting the actions of the humans around him. It had, he believed, an overall negative impact on crew cohesion and individual morale, leading to jealousy, favoritism, distraction. And it had always seemed irrational, even embarrassing, to be so controlled by one's base urges.

This particular human motivation had recently become much more understandable to Thrawn.

 _Eli Vanto_. He did not say the words out loud, but he caressed them in his thoughts. His fingers twitched on his stomach, wanting to touch that delicate human skin.

Falling in love with Vanto was not a wholly unanticipated event; he respected Vanto's intelligence, found his passion intriguing, enjoyed his company and his willing complicity in Thrawn's schemes—and underlying that was a pervasive fondness, an almost indulgent desire to see what Vanto could become given time and proper encouragement. What was love if not a combination of those feelings?

And of course, Thrawn was familiar with both Chiss folk tales and medical research; he knew the effect falling in love would have on him.

He just hadn't expected desire to be quite so…potent.

Because it _was_ difficult not to dwell on the physical, Thrawn had discovered. With these newfound pangs of lust, he found himself distracted by the strangest things: Vanto's expressive hands, with their square palms and long fingers; the shape of his buttocks in his uniform trousers; the definition of his muscled chest when he exercised in the gym, shirtless. He was shorter and slimmer than Thrawn, but just as muscular. Well-formed, Thrawn thought, an ideal human body, like an image in an educational holo, yet so much more intriguing.

Thrawn thought back on the last time they had sparred, before he had realized the extent of his feelings—although even then, the beginnings of lust were taking root in his mind. He had taken more notice of Vanto than usual, focusing not just on his stance but on his body, the tightness of the exercise pants, the sweat trickling down his chest. Thrawn had seen that and had the sudden urge, like a pulse of lightning, to pin Vanto down and lick the sweat off his body.

He hadn't recognized the impulse for what it was, then. He did now.

The lighting in the room was dim, and when Thrawn shut his eyes, it brought total darkness. Good; it was easier to imagine Vanto without distractions.

"Eli," Thrawn mouthed without vocalizing the name. Yes, it flowed off his tongue much more sweetly than his surname, though they hadn't reached the level of intimacy where such a thing would be appropriate.

If he adhered to the Imperial Navy's code of conduct, they never would.

Thrawn considered that as he stripped out of his shirt and laid back down, running his fingertips down his ribs, raising goosebumps on his skin. He supposed it made sense in a human context; sex could be used as a weapon among them, for violence or manipulation, which didn't happen among the Chiss. In the CEDF, couplings between warriors were welcomed, and were thought to make the unit stronger. Love would do that.

And if he loved Vanto—Eli—and if his feelings were reciprocated (which Thrawn was certain they were—he did, after all, pay attention), then it only stood to reason that it would make them as a team stronger as well.

Yes, there were rules against it. Thrawn had never been one to obey rules he found unnecessarily restrictive.

In his imagination, Eli slid him that sideways look he gave him whenever he deemed one of Thrawn's schemes too convoluted, a tolerant but amused expression on his face, his lips quirked upwards as if suppressing a smile. Thrawn savored the memory of the lines of his face, the swoop of his nose, his full lips, concentrating on each feature until Eli's face was as clear in his mind as a holo. Then he filled in the rest. He'd seen Eli naked while they roomed together at the Academy, and although Thrawn had taken no particular interest in his body at that time, his memory was very good. Certainly Eli had changed; he'd bulked up some in the years since. But he would still have that birthmark on his left leg, and his—what was the word in Basic? Ah, yes; it was crude but it suited Thrawn's mood—his cock would have stayed the same, short but thick while flaccid. Thrawn wondered what it would look like when Eli was aroused.

It was interesting how what had been just another body part, mostly ignored for the sake of propriety, was now the subject of Thrawn's daydreams.

Daydreams vivid enough that Thrawn had to rid himself of his trousers.

He slipped a hand between his legs, fingers slipping in the fluid there as his—Thrawn thought in Basic as much as possible, but Basic did not have a suitable word for it—his _k'tra_ began to evert. It slid out to its full length, hot from being inside his body, and twined around his fingers. Thrawn stroked the cilia covering it and shivered at the pleasurable sensation, still so new to him.

What would Eli think of him? The _k'tra_ was very different from a human cock, doubtfully similar to anything Eli had encountered—if Eli had indeed encountered any being's genitalia at all. Thrawn was fairly certain he'd had no relationships in their time together, but he couldn't speak for Eli's time at the Myomar Academy. Would Eli be intrigued or repulsed?

Intrigued, Thrawn thought, and not due to hopefulness. Eli possessed fierce curiosity about the world around him, and Thrawn assumed that would carry over to sex.

Thrawn rubbed the tip of his _k'tra_ between two fingers, and let his head fall back against the pillow as his body twitched with pleasure. Would Eli touch him the same way? Would Eli—would Eli use his mouth on it? Humans did that, Thrawn knew, although it was taboo among Chiss.

He liked the thought of it, liked the thought of Eli on his knees with his tongue sliding lovingly along the length of Thrawn's _k'tra_. It would squirm in Eli's mouth, smearing its clear fluid along his cheeks. And if this sensation was so potent just with Thrawn touching himself—he inhaled sharply as he made a circle with his forefinger and thumb and stroked the length of his _k'tra_ gently—what would it be like with his lover doing it?

Thrawn hissed under his breath, his back arching, and squeezed his eyes shut as pleasure shuddered through him and more liquid coated his palm. Orgasm alone was just physical stimulation. Orgasm with Eli…?

Thrawn looked forward to finding out.

But of course, he'd have to court him first.

Thrawn rubbed his sticky fingers together, intrigued by the sensation. He wondered if Eli would find the texture appealing.

Thrawn put it out of his mind. His lust was slaked—for now—and it was time for research. Humans wouldn't court like Chiss did, of course. Thrawn intended to find out just how they did it.

He rose from the bed and washed his hands, then went to the computer and keyed the word _Lysatra_ into the cultural database. It would be best to use the rituals Eli would be most sentimental about, he thought, rather than relying on Coruscanti values to guide him. It would be more personal that way.

Thrawn pulled up the applicable files and began to study.

* * *

Something very weird was going on with Thrawn, and Eli was determined to find out what it was.

He _watched_ Eli now, all the time, with an oddly intent expression. At times, his gaze flicked over Eli's body, as if he could read something hidden in his movements and posture. In response, Eli found himself trying to restrain the way he used his hands or stood, hyper-aware of his body language, but then Thrawn would look at him with narrowed eyes as if he somehow knew Eli was trying to deceive him.

At first, Eli'd wondered if he'd done something wrong, something to make Thrawn deem him untrustworthy. But Thrawn still took him into his confidence, still invited him to his quarters and had him look at his art collection, still talked about Eli's forays into slicing with interest—and of course, he was still on about Nightswan.

He just did it all very _intensely_. That was the only difference.

At some point, Eli gave up trying to hide—whatever it was Thrawn saw in him. Thrawn would talk to him about it eventually.

Probably.

Eli was drawing a blank as to the reason. He knew what he'd like it to be, sure, and late at night, when he was alone in his quarters with his hands for company, he definitely fantasized about it. Thrawn, looking at him with that intent gaze, but naked. Or Thrawn, presiding over the bridge, with Eli on his knees before him. Thrawn, with his fingers wrapped in Eli's hair, guiding his mouth down to…whatever kind of anatomy Chiss had. Eli wasn't sure—he'd never looked when they’d shared quarters, initially too irritated by Thrawn's presence and later too shy to dare—but Eli definitely could imagine it.

So when he received the summons to Thrawn's quarters, late at night a few weeks after the weirdness had begun, he allowed himself to imagine all the delicious directions the evening could go.

Then he brought himself back to reality, hauled himself out of his chair, and made his way to Thrawn's quarters.

His handprint was keyed to Thrawn's door, of course, but he knocked for politeness's sake anyway. The door slid open immediately and Eli stepped into the room.

It looked like it was going to be an art lesson tonight, judging from how dim the room was and the ghostly light of holos on display. Eli ignored them for now, glancing around for Thrawn, who was leaning on the chair by his desk with his arms crossed.

"What's the subject tonight, sir?" Eli asked with a nod of greeting, forcing back the shiver that ran up his spine. 

There was something different in the way Thrawn was looking at him, a sort of expectation in his eyes that hadn't been there before, even with the new intensity. And, Eli noted with extreme interest, he wasn't wearing his tunic, just his black undershirt and his trousers. No boots, even. Very casual for Thrawn.

Not that Eli objected. Not with Thrawn's arms and chest looking like they did in that shirt.

"Look and find out," Thrawn invited, and gestured to the holos.

Eli turned, and froze in place.

The artwork was Lysatran. In this case, the frescos that lined the upper walls of the matrimonial temple in the capital city, ancient but still vivid. Eli stared at them and felt an unexpected pang of homesickness. He'd been to the temple, when his cousin got married to her wife, and the memory of that day—Eli uncomfortable in his fancy clothes, looking at the bright frescos, just old enough to start wondering if he'd get married there one day (privately hoping he would)—was shockingly clear in his mind.

"Tell me what you see," Thrawn said into his ear, and Eli jumped. When had he gotten so close?

"It's the story of Caran," Eli said slowly. "An old folk tale. Some people still believe in it."

Thrawn's silence was both patient and expectant. He had stepped back, giving Eli a little space, and that hopeful part of Eli really wanted him close enough to touch again—Eli swallowed and continued.

"Caran fell in love with a mortal," Eli said. "Wait, do you want to know about the story or my analysis of the painting?"

"Whichever you wish to tell," Thrawn said mildly. "Either will be instructive."

 _Instructive?_ Thrawn did this sort of analysis to his potential enemies, Eli knew; what did this mean?

His heart began to beat faster.

"Well," he said, clearing his throat, and Thrawn cut him off.

"Commander Vanto," he said, then, "Eli. May I call you Eli?"

That was new. That was weird.

That was also how a lot of Eli's fantasies started out. And probably not how a conversation with a potential enemy would.

"Sure," Eli said faintly.

"Eli," Thrawn repeated, sounding quite pleased, for Thrawn.

"Um," Eli said coherently. "Yes, sir?"

"You may call me Thrawn if you wish," he said, which was just—Eli was really beginning to wonder where this was going. "Only if you wish. Please, tell me about the frescos."

"Okay," Eli said after a pause. He turned back to the holos and studied their familiar shapes and patterns. In the first one, a woman knelt in the clouds, golden rays emanating from her body, her eyes on a shadowed figure on the planet below. She was beautiful in the way of times back then, round-faced and curvaceous, her golden hair bright against her bronze skin. One hand was outstretched as if she wanted to grasp the figure to her heart.

"This is Caran," Eli began. "She's the goddess of war and fertility. Kind of odd things to combine into one person, but I guess it made sense to ancient Lysatrans."

"A goddess of both birth and death," Thrawn murmured. "The two extremes of life. Lysatrans must be very sanguine about both."

"Yeah, that's true," Eli said. He really shouldn't be surprised that Thrawn got that out of a one-line description, but he was nonetheless.

"Continue," Thrawn ordered, so Eli did, moving onto the next part of the fresco. This one focused on the shadow figure: a man, red-bearded, shading his eyes with his hands and gazing at the bright Lysatran sun. Even after centuries of wear, his expression was wistful, the emotion painted into every line of his face.

"Ozan," Eli identified. "He's a regular human. He was a noble warrior during conflict between the Lysatran tribes, and called upon Caran's favor many times. She granted it to him without question because his deeds were so great."

It was easy to fall into the rhythm of the story, telling it to Thrawn like his parents had told it to him. His face warmed at the thought of being so domestic, of showing Thrawn something so parochial. But Thrawn waited for him to continue, quiet, interested, non-judgemental.

"But she wanted to give him other gifts, too," Eli continued. "She offered to bless him with fertility, but he declined because he had no lover. She asked him if he wanted her to find him one, and he said no."

"Why not?" Thrawn asked softly. It was as if he knew the rhythm of the story, too, the call-and-answer ritual inherent in the tale.

"Because Caran was the only one for him," Eli responded. "He loved her and would have no one else, but she was a goddess and she couldn't be his. So he remained alone, and so did she. That's what these two holos are depicting—the two of them waiting for each other, knowing they can't have what they most want."

He gestured to the next part of the fresco: Ozan in a field of yellow flowers, their broad faces tipped towards the sun. The profile of Caran's face was in the golden orb, watching them bloom.

"She gave him gifts, though," Eli said. "She made sunflowers grow in infertile fields, and showered him in the only gifts she could give in times of peace—growing things, fruits and vegetables, healthy farms."

"But it wasn't enough," Thrawn prompted when Eli fell silent.

"No, it wasn't," Eli agreed. This was his favorite part of the story, and he always felt a little shy about expressing it. "Caran gave up her godhood for Ozan, and came to the planet. She took a piece of the sun with her and gave it to him in the form of a medallion to prove who she was. And—" Eli shrugged self-consciously. "They fell in love, had children, and lived happily ever after."

"Indeed," Thrawn said, sounding pleased. 

Eli frowned at him."If you know the story, why did you have me tell you it?" he asked.

"I was curious to hear your version," Thrawn said. "As I've told you, one can learn much about a person from the stories they tell. You emphasized their romance in your retelling, as opposed to the version on record in the cultural database, which focused more on Caran's role as a fertility goddess. What do you make of that?"

 _That I'm a diehard romantic_ was the real answer. Eli licked his lips and said, "How would you tell it, sir?" Then he immediately corrected himself, feeling daring. "Thrawn."

Thrawn smiled at him—an actual, broad smile, not one of those small Chiss smiles he used when something had amused him or he'd outsmarted someone.

Cautiously, foolishly, Eli began to hope.

"Much the same way," Thrawn said, the smile still on his face.

"So you…" Eli said, and trailed off before rallying and trying again. "So you care more about the romance than the meaning behind the myth?"

"In this particular case," Thrawn said, "with this particular myth. Yes."

Eli could feel his heartbeat in his chest, his pulse in his throat. He licked his lips, and asked, "Why?"

"I believe you know already."

It was as if he was falling, a dizzying feeling like looking over the edge of a steep cliff. What Thrawn was saying seemed impossible; but what else could he mean? The choice of myth, one from Eli's homeworld, a romantic tale known throughout that region of space—and Thrawn had to know the cultural implications here. He had to have researched it, the greatest love story of Lysatra.

The silence drew on while Eli processed this, and tried to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

"Please understand, Eli," Thrawn said after too long had passed, his voice even but as earnest as Eli had ever heard him. "I have no expectations of you. If you would rather, we can disregard this entirely. Your career will not be affected and my treatment of you won't change."

He meant it, too, Eli knew.

"Have I misjudged the situation?"

Eli made a decision.

"Absolutely not," he said. He closed the distance between them, took Thrawn's head between his hands, and kissed him.

His lips were cool and they opened immediately for him, Thrawn's tongue snaking its way into his mouth as he slid his hands down to Eli's hips and pulled him close. Eli gripped him by the shoulders, then slipped one hand down his chest. The shirt was very thin; he could feel Thrawn's body heat through it, and if he glided his fingers in the right direction, he could feel the bump of his nipple through the fabric. Thrawn twitched slightly when he touched it; intrigued, Eli did it again.

Thrawn gasped into his mouth, his fingers twitching on his hips, and a lovely dark thing uncoiled inside Eli and said, _Yes_.

He slid his hand up Thrawn's shirt, marveling at the coolness of his skin and the smooth muscles he'd been daydreaming about touching for so long, pressing his hand flat against Thrawn's chest.

"So warm," Thrawn murmured against his lips. "Continue."

"Yes, sir," Eli said with a grin. 

Thrawn's eyes cracked open and he gave Eli a narrow look, but they fluttered shut again when Eli's other hand joined the first and slid around Thrawn's back, pulling him flush against Eli's body. Eli found himself at the perfect height to twine his fingers in Thrawn's hair and tug back his head, exposing the blue column of his throat. If Thrawn thought his hands were warm…

Eli licked Thrawn's neck and earned a very intriguing noise from him. In his fantasies, Eli never imagined Thrawn being so responsive, gasping and moaning at Eli's touches, or being so willing to let Eli take the lead.

He liked it. Liked it a lot.

"Come on," Eli said, feeling bold, and tugged Thrawn's hair again, which got him another pleased sigh. "Take off your shirt."

Thrawn obeyed, which was headier than Corellian whisky. He stripped off his shirt and immediately dropped his hands to the zipper of his trousers.

"Hold on," Eli said, grabbing at his hands. "You're going a little fast."

"Am I?" Thrawn asked, seeming genuinely puzzled. "I admit it was difficult to find accurate depictions of sex between humans. Most were either too clinical or unnecessarily pornographic. Perhaps I miscalculated."

The thought of Thrawn watching porn to study for having sex with Eli was a lot to take in. Eli wondered if he'd enjoyed it, if he'd touched himself and thought of Eli, if—

Well, Eli realized, he could probably just ask him, if he was that curious. But that could happen later.

"You didn't miscalculate, exactly," he said. "Some humans like to move that fast. But—"

"Not you?" Thrawn prompted when Eli fell silent.

"Not me," Eli agreed. His face was heating under Thrawn's thoughtful eyes.

"You're blushing," Thrawn noted. He sounded amused. "Now?"

"Well, yeah," Eli said emphatically. "Can you blame me—what's that?"

He was frowning at what was unquestionably a damp spot on the front of Thrawn's trousers. He couldn't have possibly—not from a little kissing?

"Ah," Thrawn said. "The _k'tra_. Of course, you won't know it."

" _K'tra_ ," Eli said, testing out the word. From Thrawn's raised eyebrow, he could use some practice. "Is that your…well, genitals?"

A stupidly clinical word, but Eli had no idea what else to use. It was better than just trailing off, as if he were a blushing virgin unable to talk about sex.

Okay, he _was_ blushing. But he was definitely not a virgin, and he was absolutely going to talk about sex.

"Yes," Thrawn said. His expression turned almost sly. "Perhaps it will be moving too fast for you, but it may be wise for you to see it before we continue."

"I think you just want me to take your pants off," Eli said without thinking, and clamped his mouth shut quickly.

Thrawn's eyes glittered in amusement.

"Perhaps," he conceded. "Nonetheless. Shall we?"

"Yeah," Eli decided. To hell with it; he might have preferred taking it slow with other people, but everything was different with Thrawn. "Yeah, why not?"

"I would appreciate it if you took off your uniform as well."

"Oh!" Eli had honestly forgotten about that, too enamored with the sight of Thrawn half-naked and flushed lightly purple to remember that he was supposed to take off his clothes too. He fumbled with his collar, trying to get it undone without taking his eyes off Thrawn. "Yeah, I'll do th—"

He cut himself off as Thrawn dropped his trousers without ceremony, stepped out of them, and sat in the chair, draping his legs across the arms so he was spread open for Eli, with absolutely zero shame or embarrassment.

There was something squirming between his legs.

"Please, come see," Thrawn invited.

Eli wordlessly finished pulling his shirt over his head and dropped to his knees in front of Thrawn. To say he was dying with curiosity would be an understatement. So would saying he was hard enough to make wearing pants uncomfortable.

Eli braced his hands on Thrawn's thighs and looked at his _k'tra_. It was—the only word in Basic for it was _tentacle_ , something as thick as Eli's wrist at the base where it seemed to have slid out of his body, and as narrow as his fingertip at the end. It was deep purple, nearly indigo, and covered with fine hairs. Eli brushed a finger across them, very lightly, and Thrawn inhaled sharply. Eli's finger came away sticky.

"Ah," Thrawn said, a little breathily. "This is much more—"

Eli wanted to hear him gasp like that again, so he stroked up the length of Thrawn's _k'tra_ again with two fingers. Thrawn's head fell back and he stopped speaking for a moment. Eli couldn't help himself; he smirked.

"—much more stimulating than I anticipated," Thrawn finished after he'd taken a moment to collect himself. 

Eli, about to indulge his curiosity and taste the sticky liquid, paused."Than you anticipated?" he repeated. "Have you…never done this before?"

"Chiss don't engage in casual sex," Thrawn said, as if this were a fact Eli should've known.

"But never?"

Thrawn gazed down at him with slightly narrowed eyes, his mind clearly whirring away.

"That appeals to you," Thrawn said slowly. "The thought that you're my first."

It did. And it wasn't ego that made Eli feel that way; it was an alarming sort of tenderness, something swelling in his chest at the knowledge that Thrawn had deemed Eli important enough to him to trust with this, _safe_ enough—although Thrawn probably didn't think of it that way, Eli did, and Thrawn knew that.

 _I_ am _in love with him,_ Eli realized. _I wasn't fooling myself at all._

"Yes," was all he said to Thrawn, figuring he could read it all in Eli's voice if he wanted to. 

Thrawn carded his fingers through Eli's hair like he was petting him, and smiled.

"Good," he said, his voice full of sleek satisfaction.

Then Eli curled his hand around his _k'tra_ and sucked on the very tip of it, and Thrawn stiffened and said harshly, "Eli—!"

"Sorry!" Eli said hastily, drawing back. "Did that hurt—did I do something wrong?"

"Do it again," Thrawn demanded, his eyes blazing. Eli's cock twitched and he slipped his free hand down to palm himself through his pants.

"Okay," Eli said, and kept his eyes on Thrawn's as he opened his mouth and flicked the tip of his tongue across Thrawn's _k'tra_. Thrawn's eyes widened slightly; he was as unguarded as Eli had ever seen him.

Eli wanted to see him fall apart.

His _k'tra_ was twining around Eli's fingers, prehensile, seeking stimulation. Eli was happy to give it. He spread his fingers wide so the _k'tra_ would have more room to move and progressed from sucking on the tip to laving the length of it with his tongue. The fine hairs were soft and pliant, the taste of the liquid unexpectedly sweet. Eli placed a sucking kiss on one of the curves where it was wrapped around his finger, then soothed the spot with his tongue.

Above him, Thrawn was making the sort of sounds Eli hadn't even dared to imagine, little gasps and whimpers and curses in his native language Eli couldn't understand. His thigh was trembling under Eli's palm, his hands wound tight in Eli's hair. Eli didn't mind the tugging; it was a nice reminder of exactly what effect he was having on Thrawn—as if the noises weren't enough.

"Eli," Thrawn whispered, and yanked his hair sharply. Eli squeezed his _k'tra_ experimentally and Thrawn hissed, flinging his head back, his back arching hard. His _k'tra_ pulsed in Eli's hand and more liquid oozed from its surface. Eli licked it up, savoring every bit.

"Ah, stop," Thrawn panted, and pushed at Eli's forehead. "It's—oversensitive."

"Okay," Eli said, and sat back on his heels. He was a little out of breath himself, just from the thrill of seeing Thrawn like this—Eli had wanted to see him fall apart, and he had, and it was beautiful. Eli considered telling him so, but dismissed it as unnecessary. Thrawn would be able to read his face.

Eli eyed Thrawn, who looked tremendously overwhelmed, and adjusted his expectations. Might as well go for it.

"You really are beautiful, you know," he said. 

Thrawn blinked at him, his red eyes finally focusing.

"Thank you," he said, his tone implying that it was a strange compliment. Eli figured that Chiss didn't care about looks as much as humans did. Oh well; Eli’s words had been genuine. "Now, I believe it's my turn."

"Your turn?" Eli frowned.

Thrawn put a foot on his shoulder and pushed him back onto the floor. Eli flopped onto the ground, unbalanced, and then Thrawn was on top of him, his hands expertly undoing his pants and tugging them down.

"Yes," Thrawn said. His composure was more or less back; he was still looking a little flustered, cheeks flushed, a love bite on his neck, but his eyes were thoughtful and calculating, if brighter than normal. "My turn."

Without ceremony, he took Eli's cock in his hand, stroking the shaft with a light touch. The sight of his blue fingers wrapped around Eli's cock was, frankly, unfair; Eli had gone from pleasantly erect to rock hard and leaking in about three seconds.

"Stiffer than I anticipated," Thrawn commented, then glanced up at Eli. "What I am about to do is considered obscene by Chiss standards, Eli."

He leaned down and licked the droplet of pre-come off the head of Eli's cock, which really put Eli's multitasking ability to the test as he tried to process both Thrawn's comment and the sensation of his cool tongue, a little longer than the average human's, curling around Eli's cock.

"Oh stars," Eli breathed. 

Thrawn's eyes flicked to his face for a moment, then he applied himself to the art of sucking Eli's cock.

He was awkward about it, unpracticed—and even if he hadn't been a virgin ( _he's a_ virgin, Eli thought again in astonished delight), it wasn't like he'd know how to handle a human cock anyway. Eli didn't care. It was, without a doubt, the best blowjob he'd had in his life. Because it was Thrawn doing it, Thrawn's head bobbing between his legs, Thrawn crouching naked in front of him and Thrawn's hands toying with his balls and Thrawn—

It was _Thrawn_ —

Eli spasmed and gasped Thrawn's name as he flooded his mouth with his come. He saw Thrawn swallow, taking it all, which—Eli was getting hard again, ludicrously, like a teenager. Thrawn ignored it, moving up to lay against Eli, curved around him almost protectively, one arm draped over his waist. They were quiet.

"Come with me," Thrawn said, after they'd laid together for a long moment.

He rose from the floor and walked from the reception area to his bedroom. Curious and still wanting more, Eli followed.

The lights in here were brighter, nearly at 100%, and Eli flinched for a moment before his eyes adjusted.

Then he looked at what on the bed—Thrawn's bed, because he was in Thrawn's bedroom, where he had never been before, and somehow this seemed so much more intimate than the sex they'd just had—and he went hot all over.

Thrawn had somehow acquired two sun cakes. Genuine ones, it looked like, from the bright yellow fondant etching out the shape of a sun on each bite-sized round pastry, dyed with a substance found only on Lysatra. Sun cakes to represent Caran's sun medallion.

Some elements were missing—for the ritual to be properly done, they'd have to be on Lysatran soil, underneath the Lysatran sun—but the sun cakes were the important part.

This was a marriage proposal.

Eli knew that he should think about it. That he should consider this very carefully, and not make a rash decision, not leap into something that was ceremonially binding, if not legally, without first going over every single possible consequence.

But Thrawn wouldn't have set this up if he hadn't already done that, and Eli trusted Thrawn.

"Chiss do not engage in casual sex, you understand," Thrawn repeated. He was standing off to Eli’s left. His hands were clasped behind his back, his posture military straight. If Eli didn't know better, he'd think Thrawn was nervous.

Actually, Eli thought, looking at him harder, Thrawn just might be. Which was a first.

There were a lot of firsts, tonight.

"We see no need for intercourse without a bonding ceremony first," Thrawn continued, his voice taking on that slightly lecturing tone he developed in his more professorial moments, his posture loosening slightly. "This is both a cultural and biological imperative. What we just did—" He gestured between the two of them. "—is highly unorthodox."

"A biological imperative?" Eli repeated. He was trying to process that, not one hundred percent sure what it meant.

"We mate for life," Thrawn said simply. "We feel no desire for anyone but our partner. Occasionally," this with a slight shrug, "we will remarry if our partner dies. But only occasionally."

He took a step towards Eli.

"That's why you're a virgin," Eli said slowly.

"Am I?" Thrawn asked dryly, and Eli flushed.

"Were," he amended. "Because you didn't…you don't want anyone but me."

"Yes," Thrawn confirmed.

"I don't want anyone but you, either," Eli said. It was easier to say than he thought it would be; a relief, actually, to speak the truth.

Thrawn looked at him keenly for a long moment, then picked up a sun cake and held it out to Eli. His hands were steady. His decision had clearly already been made.

So had Eli's.

Eli took Thrawn's wrist in his hand, feeling the tendons and muscles flex beneath his touch, and gently took the sun cake from Thrawn's fingers with his mouth. The sweet citrus flavor exploded on his tongue; these were genuine Lysatran sun cakes, all right. His lips brushed against Thrawn's fingertips as he withdrew. 

Thrawn exhaled roughly. "It isn't legally binding, of course," he said.

"I don't care," Eli told him. It was his turn to feed Thrawn a sun cake; the ritual wouldn't be complete until he did. "That part doesn't matter to me."

"I know," Thrawn said, and took the sun cake from Eli's fingers delicately. Eli watched his throat bob as he swallowed. His eyes didn't leave Eli's for a second.

"Maybe," Eli said, and licked his lips. "Maybe we should try the bed next."

"Yes," Thrawn said thoughtfully. "There is still much for me to learn."

"It's nice to be the teacher for once," Eli said, and pushed Thrawn onto the bed by his shoulders. Thrawn fell back gracefully, leaning back on his elbows and leveling a challenging stare at Eli.

"Educate me, then," he said.

"More than happy to," Eli replied, and followed him to the bed.


End file.
